The New Millennium
by Duochanfan
Summary: John Watson and Sherlock Holmes are celebrating with friends and family the last New Year that they will see at Baker Street before they retire.


**I don't own Sherlock Holmes, just having some fun while I can.**

 **Thanks go to Myrcella for going through this. Any mistakes left behind are mine.**

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 **The New Millennium**

Sherlock Holmes is standing tall in the living room of 221B Baker Street. Poised and Calm as Mrs Hudson and I talk of the New Year Celebrations drift around him. There is to be a gathering of friends that night, to ring in the New Year. Our nearest and dearest will be joining us. Sherlock is plucking at the strings of his violin, drowning out the noise of our talk and the traffic below. He has been standing there for a while. Ignoring Mrs Hudson and I as we plan. My eyes can not help but drift over to him.

His once black hair is now fully grey and beginning to recede a little, but not enough for those that don't know him to notice. He is still as thin as he ever was. Even with Mrs HUdson and myself trying to get him to eat more and avoid the pitfalls he once relied on. Age is upon us both. I myself have gained some weight to my once thin and fit form. The days are forever passing us by. Aches and pains rearing their heads more and more as we spend our days trying to consult on cases.

I glance to the window where the clouds in the sky were obscuring what little winter sun would peek from between them. The year 2K bug had been the talk of the city, fear of what it might do to our modern world is at an all time high. Talk is escalating into the near panic of the people. Though Sherlock has reassured us all that it isn't true and only rumor with no basis in fact. The man is in a world of his own, plucking away with a slight hum. The tune is a familiar one, but I can't place it. Unlike Sherlock, I am no expert when it comes to classical music.

"Sherlock," I said, wondering if the soft address might gain his attention. He seems miles away from me in that moment. He had not noticed my call, just carried on plucking away at his violin strings.

"Mr Holmes!" Mrs Hudson's call was sharp as she sat beside me on the sofa. Her voice is as strong as ever, even with her advanced age.

"He is in a world of his own," I can't help but smile fondly. I do care deeply for the man standing in front of us. "Sherlock Holmes!" I shout, louder this time, the authority I once commanded in my voice.

Sherlock finally looks at us, his dark brown eyes locking onto my own. A small smile graces his face. "There is no need to raise your voice, John," he admonishes me gently.

I felt the urge to roll my eyes and gave in. We are getting on in years, not the youthful men we once had been over thirty years ago. I am now in my late sixties, and Sherlock will be celebrating his seventieth birthday in the New Year. "you were not listening to me, Sherlock. Now about the gathering," I then began to explain the plans that Mrs Hudson and I had made during the time he had been lost in his thoughts.

There are not that many on our guest list. The only living family remaining to me is my ex-wife. We are still friends after all we have been through, and honestly, Mary is a saint. She is now a retired primary school teacher, she had gone back after our marriage ended. She and Mrs Hudson still like to meet for drinks when they have a chance. She will be coming with her husband, Son and grandchildren, along with Detective Inspector Aaron Lestrade.

"I imagine Mycroft won't make it. He has other things going on," Sherlock informs me.

"He will. I have already talked to him. Don't forget that he is retired from his governmental work. Has been for a while now, he is 77 this year."

Sherlock begun to hum, turning back to his violin. It isn't long before the bow in his hand began to sway back and forth across the strings. The emerging song melding together with his humming and into a melody that relaxes my body, mind and my very soul. It isn't until Sherlock put the instrument down to answer his phone that I notice that Mrs Hudson has left us.

"Holmes," he answers, the phone to his ear. "Ah, Lestrade." He smirks, violin and bow now held loosely in his left hand. I watch with interest as his talking with the man on the other end of the line continues. "We shall be there," he replies to a question i can not hear. He listens for a moment more before saying, "Goodbye."

"What did Detective Lestrade want?" I ask, curious as to what the call was about.

"He has something of a problem that he would very much like solved before our gathering." SHerlock walks across the room and to store his violin within its case. Closing the case he turns to me, "Well Watson, shall we?" he asks, a smirk on his face and eyes alight once more with the prospect of a new case, even a small mundane one.

"Of course Holmes," I reply as I stand. I only hear my last name from him when we are on a case. The rest of the time he calls me by my name. It has become a habit over the years we have worked together. Even as our relationship progressed beyond professional and platonic, the tradition stuck.

"Good." He picked up his long coat, and in one fluid motion, he is wearing it. Swirling around him for a second before it settled. I shake my head as I grab mine and put it on without the added flourish. We walk out of the flat and down the stairs to the front door.

"Are you going out, Mr Holmes, Dr Watson?" she asks us, a gentle smile on her thin and wrinkled face. She addresses us as she always has in between acting as landlady, doorman, housekeeper and so much more over these past years.

"We are indeed Mrs Hudson. Lestrade has called about a case," Sherlock answers kindly.

"Ah, well do make sure that you get back here on time for the gathering," she reminds us both.

"Of course Mrs Hudson," I assure her as Sherlock leaves me behind, heading out of the door.

"Do be careful Dr Watson," she smiles. I smile back and nod in return. She turns and walks slowly back to her apartment.

"So are you going to tell me what the case is?" I ask, glancing over at the man as I climb into a taxi.

"A case that Lestrade would like our help on," he answers, "It should not take long. Lestrade just wants the case over with so he can join us tonight. And because of who is involved of course. Something was taken and they want it found. The whole place if on lockdown of course."

"Ah, we should be able to help with that," I nod and allow a comfortable silence to fall between us. Unthinkingly we reach across the middle seat and take hold of each others hand. When we first met this level of intimacy wouldn't have been possible to even consider. Now it feels so normal neither of us can imagine going without. In those days I didn't think of Sherlock as anything more than a gifted friend. A treasured one to be sure, but a friend none the less. I denied my feelings for him, as I would later learn, he did with me. Eventually we got there of course and we have spent almost two decades loving each other since.

"John," Sherlock's gentle voice broke me away from memories of the past, bringing me back to the present and our newly reached destination.

"Of course," I say, climbing out of the car.

"Good of you two to make it," Lestrade was smiling tiredly as we approach the driveway. We have known him for over thirty years now, since he was just a rookie on the job. It is a Detective Inspector that he has made his name and his home. He has refused a number of promotions over the last few years, with the excuse that he didn't want to be doing more paperwork. Since then though Sherlock has hinted to me that there was something more to his decision.

"Hope we can help," I say, smiling at the man as he led us inside and through the entrance and to the main living room of the manor house.

"Madame Warren's Diamond and Sapphire necklace, worth £20,oo0 went missing sometime in the last four hours. It was in her bedroom in the safe, only she and her family as well as three staff members have the code. She took it off and put it inside. She went to get it an hour ago and it was no longer in its box," Lestrade begun to explain, "We've searched the entire manor, since we arrive fifty minutes ago. We've got nothing, so we called you in. There are only a few staff members and of course the family here at the moment. We've had the estate on lockdown since we arrive, and no one has left from the moment it was put away."

"So, as far as we know we have our thief cornered," Sherlock nodding to himself as Lestrade was opening the door and led us inside.

I could not help but be impressed with the manor. It was decorated tastefully. I expect to see a manor house that showed it's wealth. But this one didn't, it was there, but it was understated. I could see many portraits lining the walls. Mostly of young children. The family obviously valued each other more than their wealth.

"I would say so," I smile as I glance at those gathered in the living room. My musing on their decore out of my mind.

They were split off into three groups. The staff were to one side, looking around, silent. The older generation were seated in the admin area, with the younger generation off to another side of the room. They were holding a quiet conversation with each other. I watch as Sherlock looks to them all in turn. Deducing what he can about them. He is walking with a confident air to the eldest of the women in the middle of the sofa. Her regal demeanor was shaming those beside her. I follow and stand beside him, as Lestrade came to a stop on Sherlock's other side.

"Madame Warren," Lestrade begun. The woman was elderly, older than myself I would say. Her hair was grey, and pinned back into a french twist, giving her a more youthful appearance. "This is Mr Holmes and his colleague Dr Watson."

"I asked for the best," she spoke softly as she turned icy cold eyes towards Lestrade. "I do hope you have brought them as promised," Her tone is commanding as she sat back straight. Her very demeanor demanded respect from those in the room, and I can see the room look and fall quiet as soon as she had started to talk.

"I have, Madame. Mr Holmes and Dr Watson have been consulting for Scotland Yard for over three decades. I can't tell you have many cases they have solved."

"Very well," waving her hand dismissively, her manicured hand was small and dainty. I could see no calluses on her hand,"Get on with it."

"I would like to begin with asking you some questions Madame Warren," Sherlock begun as he stepped back. It was better for him to be able to observe those in the room.

"Of course, ask and I shall do all I can to give you the answers you need," she gave her reply with an incline of her head for Sherlock to proceed.

"Thank you Madame," he pauses for a moment before asking, "What was it that you last saw the piece of jewelry?"

Icey blue eyes locks serenely onto Sherlock, "I have already explained this," she began, and it almost seems like she would refuse to answer him. But with a sigh she continues, "It was four hours ago. I took it off to get ready for the celebrations tonight. As I always do, I look it within the small safe in my room. While the necklace is worth a lot of money. It has more sentimental value to this family. It belonged to my great grandmother, it was given to her by her father when she married as a gift," she explains a little of the necklace that we are to locate, and as the silence went on for a moment and then she adds, "When I went to retrieve it, it was no longer there."

"Does anyone else have the code?" Sherlock asks, as I look between Sherlock and Madame Warren. I am trying to do as Sherlock does and observe those in the room. I can see a few nervous faces when the question is asked.

"Yes; my housekeeper, Mrs Bella; butler, Mr Pannis; and one of the maids was told recently. Miss Lish. That does not include my family, as they all know the code," she answers Sherlock's question, "They would have told me if they had moved it or taken it, and my staff would not do such a thing either," her voice going cold as she defended not only her family but her staff. It was obvious that she didn't believe that her family or staff would do such a thing.

I look to the gathering of the younger generation and I can see Sherlock doing the same out of the corner of my eye. "So as far as you know no one if you family or staff would take it," I surmise. "Was the safe broken into or did it look as normal?"

"Excellent question Dr Watson," Sherlock gave me a small smile before turning his attention back to Madame Warren once more.

"I didn't notice anything amiss until I opened it to put the necklace back on." she explains. "I always wear the necklace. I shall be passing it down to my eldest daughter when I pass on. As it was passed on to me. I am only without it when I am getting ready for things. And I always put it back in the safe, so there is no chance of me misplacing it."

"Ah," Sherlock grins and turns on his heel. He bypasses the staff entirely and focuses on a well dressed teenager. She looks to be the youngest in the group, small than the others. "I believe that you might wish to return the necklace to your grandmother."

The subject of his scrutiny shied away from him, moving as though to hide behind the larger bodies of her siblings and cousins, "I…" she starts to speak, only to stop herself from continuing.

Sherlock gave her a reassuring smile. He is always kind to the ladies, no matter their age. "It is all right. You thought that your grandmother wouldn't wear it, not knowing that true significance of the necklace," he steps a little closer to her, a kind smile on his face, "Most likely you wished to impress your friends with such a lovely piece."

"Jennifer," Madam Warren said as she stands up from her chair and turns to face her granddaughter, "Is this true? Do you have it?" She asks, relief in her voice as her precious necklace wasn't stolen. Though I could detect a hint of admonishment in her voice as well.

Jennifer nods her head, "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry," she begun to cry. "I want to tell you and ask you if I could borrow it. But when I couldn't find you, and I needed to get ready. Then you said it had been stolen and I was scared," she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small red velvet box.

"Oh Jenny, you should have told me," Madame Warren's voice was soft as she walks over to her grandchild, taking the box from her. "You should have told me instead of letting me think it had been taken. You only had to ask," she sighs and opens the box. I could just about see the necklace inside. It was a very fine gold chain. I could see a cluster of diamonds around the three sapphires that were hanging from it. Madame Warren fastens the necklace around her granddaughter neck, "Here child. Next time ask. I Was so worried that someone had come in and taken it. But the thought of someone being in here, entering our home. They could have harmed one of you. That frightened me the most. I shall let you wear it tonight. It will be yours one day, but not for a long time I hope."

"I'm sorry grandmother," Jennifer sniffs a little as she wraps her arms around her, "I'm really sorry, and I hope it won't be for a very long time."

"I know my dear," she says as she turns to the three of us, "I apologise for wasting your time."

"No need for apologies MAdame," Sherlock says with a smile on his face. "I am thankful that it has been resolved." I smile as well, Sherlock is always the gentleman. On occasions he can be very abrupt, but that is mostly with the criminal element of our work, and for those that hide things from us.

"Thank you for your help. I don't know if she would have ever come forward," she smiles. The regal and commanding demeanor she had displayed throughout the encounter has entirely vanished. You can now see the loving and caring grandmother.

"We shall take our leave," he smiles back, "Happy New Year to you all." I repeat the sentiment and follow Sherlock out of the manor house. Lestrade staying behind to finish off the case, underwhelming as it turned out. We have had a few of those over the years.

"Well that was something," I say, purely to break the silence after such a cut and dry case. Sherlock no longer minds them, these days. The days of us running after the criminal element of London are now long gone.

Sherlock laughs, "Yes it was an easy one. I do hope my last true case will be an interesting one."

I look to him, surprise in my eyes as I repeat, "Last case?"

"Yes. I am almost eighty John and you are only three years younger than I. We have been partners in all senses for thirty three years. I believe that it is time for us to truly retire, get away from the city," he says, his voice melancholy.

I can understand from his that he is sad to leave behind the cases and the city he has loved for so long. I have to admit that I believe it to be time to leave. My bones are old and aching, and I know that Sherlock is feeling the same deep seated tiredness. "Where shall we go?" I have no idea of what we will do. I do not believe that SHerlock would want to do nothing with his time in his retirement.

"I would like to study bees. I have held a fascination of them since I was but a child and my father talked to me about how a bee shouldn't be able to fly. I know that is just a myth, but I still find them fascinating creatures. I have always wanted to study them, and now I think I can have that chance. If you don't mind," he suggests, though I could see that he truly wishes this for our future together.

"I am fine with that. I can spend my days writing our memoirs of our adventures together," I nod in agreement. It does sound like an ideal plan for the both of us and then I remember, "What about Mrs Hudson? Surely we can't leave her alone?" our kind landlady is now 92. Though her advanced age certainly isn't slowing her down much.

"Of course not, she would be coming with us. I have already sourced a nice cottage that we can retire to. With a bee farm as part of it," he tells me. His voice is eager and excited at the prospect.

I could not help the smile on my face as he begun to relate to me all the details about the cottage and surrounding land. It sounds picturesque to me; a place that is a fantasy in the mind. We make our plans to announce our retirement at the New Year's gathering tonight., We reach the road and call for a taxi.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Music plays softly in the background. I stand with Sherlock by the window as we watch everyone around us. Lestrade and Gregson are both here, and though their rivalry has died down in the last decade, you can still see it occasionally. The minutes are going by quickly and Mrs Hudson finally makes her way over to us after talking with Mary and Fred, and their son and grandchildren. Though one of them is already asleep. It is good to see Mary happy. Our marriage didn't last long, only four years. But we were happy for a while, and after an amicable divorce became better friends. Sherlock and I are godparents to her son, a bright young man. He is a doctor, and I have to admit I am rather proud of that.

"Oh Mr Holmes," Mrs Hudson exclaims as she reaches us and looks around the room, "It's so nice to have everyone together."

"That is it Mrs Hudson," he smiles back.

"We do have a little announcement to make," I look to her, and her eyes light up in understanding. We had told her of our plans when we returned to Baker Street. She is in full agreement with them. Though there was a slight protest about coming with us, but we wouldn't take no for an answer and she gave in.

"I'll get everyone's attention," she says as she walks over to the stereo and turns the sound down, "Everyone, Mr Holmes and Dr Watson would like to say something."

"Good evening everyone," Sherlock begins, a smile on his face and a glass of wine in his hand, "I am glad that you were all able to make it," he carries on, "We have one thing to announce tonight. John and I are to retire this year. In April, we will be retiring to the Sussex Downs, and spending the rest of our time there."

Lestrade and Gregson share a look, as they too will be retiring around the same time. I would say that Sherlock timed it so that we will all be leaving around the same time. "So no more cases?" Lestrade asks.

"We may do one or two more before we leave," I say, looking to Sherlock. I know he would like to leave being a consulting detective on a high note. And one last successful case would be a very nice way to do so.

"I wish you both the best," Mycroft says as he raises his glass to the two of us, "I do hope you enjoy your retirement."

"We shall," Sherlock nods to him, we raise our glasses and take a sip as outside we can hear the countdown begin.

Mrs Hudson rushes over to the windows and opens them, "Oh Joseph," she calls to Mary's son. "Go and open the back door in my flat. To let the old year out and the run and open the front door to let the new year in when the bell strikes midnight," she instructs him in an old tradition. One that my own parents once did when I was a child.

"I will Mrs Hudson," he smiles to the elderly lady and leaves the room. It is not the first time he has done this little tradition of ours.

"Let the old year out and the new year in," she smiles as the countdown hit ten and you can just about hear the people yelling it out loud up and down the street outside.

I turn to Sherlock and we share a look. Our eyes are smiling and our hearts are light as the bell strikes midnight and we share another New Year's Kiss. The last we shall have at 221b Baker Street.

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 **Thank you for reading this little one shot, and I do hope that you have enjoyed it.**


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